


Loopholes

by teasCracker



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Fluff and Humor, Gen, I have feels for Vehicons and I'm bitter, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teasCracker/pseuds/teasCracker
Summary: Here are some facts:Vehicons are drones. Anyone would tell you that they are expendable, cannon-fodder, and how they have exceptionally terrible aim. Some say they were made before the war, to do basic chores, cleaning, menial labour. Blank soldiers made to serve.(If you pay enough attention, you'll see that's not really the case.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I got sucked in to TFP three years too late, got myself deep into these minor characters, and now I itch to write. Problem is, I neither can trust myself to write a multi-chapter story nor have enough time to update. So what I'm gonna do is this collection of fics exploring the sub-culture of Vehicons, shenanigans and whatnots, all from the different points of views of different Eradicons.
> 
> (This is partially inspired from Little Rebellions, a Steven Universe fic that I highly recommend to read.)

Officer R07 is reporting again.

Or, just like every other time he does, again and again and again. About what, Vehicon does not know. Somewhere along the endless speech he’s lost track of the topic and the only thing that registers is a faint background noise, the steady clicking of twenty keyboards.

It’s been two breems, according to the monitor screen. This does not, however, disturb R07’s words, for he is still passionately lost in his one-sided discussion that borders on an intensity that may one day rival Commander Starscream’s should he continues. Vehicon feels the stoic presence of Officer Soundwave entering the room, the blabbering officer trailing after. The rest of the command squad listens on impassively through their tasks.

Never mind the fact that no one is paying attention.

Just like the other Drone beside Vehicon, who is staring into a blank screen, who’s servos are shuffling through a stack of data pads for the third time, rearranging them back just as orderly before cycling them again. They are bored, but hidden behind their smooth facemask and still frame that only a fellow trooper can tell.

Vehicon inclines his head towards the other, just a _tiny_ bit. Enough to gain their attention. In fact, there is no noticeable change in his posture. He slides his left servo across the keyboard casually, as if to reach the data pads, but it brushes against the other’s fingers. His own right servo does not stop typing.

Then, hidden to the rest of the room, he presses once, twice into the knuckle of the other’s last digit. A drag across to the second joint, followed by series of _tap, tap, tap_. _Blah, blah, blah. I am Officer GA-R07-1, witness me melting all audio processors under ten reports or less._

The other Vehicon does not react, at least not openly so. Except, their fingers curled just a fraction and brushed back. They are snickering on the inside.

He feels two coming to rest upon his own, then;

 _tap, tap, poke, taptaptap, drag._ _I like to kiss aft and the floors Officer Soundwave walks upon, and I’ve only just finished two corridors._

Curling his fingers in response – because Dear Primus that is _hilarious_ \- Vehicon taps an invitation to lunch on the other’s wrist. His lips twitch behind his mask.

He always did like someone with a sense of humor.

**Author's Note:**

> Chirolinguistics is interesting, and handy enough to avoid attention from irritable superiors who can offline you in a kilk.


End file.
